


roll the dice (and swear that your love’s for me)

by trustingno1



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Facials, Frottage, M/M, OT5, Oral Sex, Overstimulation, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-29
Updated: 2012-09-29
Packaged: 2017-11-15 06:35:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/524192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trustingno1/pseuds/trustingno1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There should probably be some ground rules when Louis’ pants are coming off.</p><p>(For 'sex dice' and 'spin the bottle' prompts on the kink meme).</p>
            </blockquote>





	roll the dice (and swear that your love’s for me)

**Author's Note:**

> Title: roll the dice (and swear that your love’s for me)  
> Pairing: OT5 (with established Harry/Louis and some other, unrequited feels).  
> Word Count: ~5,000  
> Rating: nc-17  
> Author’s Notes: Bastardisation of [sex dice](http://1dkinkmeme.livejournal.com/6856.html?thread=8185544#t8185544) and spin the bottle prompts on the kink meme; contains facials, overstimulation, barebacking, rimming; occurs in an AU where any rl-girlfriends do not exist, and STIs are apparently not a thing.  
> Summary: There should probably be some ground rules when Louis’ pants are coming off.

“For the record,” Liam says, examining the dice, “I still think this is a terrible idea.”  
  
For the record? Niall kind of agrees. He sits back down on the floor between Harry and Zayn, handing Harry a bottle of water. He lifts it quickly in silent thanks and Niall smiles.  
  
“No-one’s forcing you to be here,” Louis says, quite reasonably, and Liam stops talking.  
  
“Chuck them here,” Zayn says, and Liam tosses the dice across the loose circle to him. “ _Nibble_?” Zayn reads, a little dubiously.  
  
Louis waves a hand, dismissively, from where’s he’s sitting, leaning against the couch. “One of them’s for beginners.”  
  
Zayn all but does a double take. “Blow?” he reads off the same die, and Louis shoots him a withering look.  
  
“Like, _blow,”_ he blows on the back of his hand to demonstrate. “Calm down, pervert. We’ll get to that.”  
  
Zayn’s mock outraged at that. “ _I’m_ the pervert?” he asks, looking at the others for support. Which is, Niall allows, fair enough. It really is Louis who makes things weird and sexy and _weirdly_ sexy. “Why do you even _have_ these, Louis?”  
  
“I’d still like to know,” Liam mutters.  
  
“They were a _gift_ ,” Louis says, primly. “Be _rude_ not to use them,” and Harry snorts in laughter.  
  
“And the lube?” Zayn asks, unimpressed, “A gift?”  
  
“No, that’s being _prepared_.”  
  
“So what’s the Twister thing for?” Liam continues, a little worriedly.  
  
“Nothing kinky,” Louis says, all indignant, and everyone else is laughing, now, and Niall’s stomach twists in a not-unpleasant reminder of just how _much_ he’s grown to love these ridiculous boys, how much he can’t imagine being without them. “Just like - spin the bottle. You roll and spin,” he places the first die down, KISS side up and flicks the Twister spinner lazily, stopping it with two fingers to land on Harry. “So I’d kiss Haz,” he explains, and Harry dutifully leans across the circle to kiss him, quick and chaste, balancing on his hands and knees.  
  
“Terrible,” Niall says, because they’ve all seen better. “Absolutely terrible.”  
  
“Hey,” Harry says, a little wounded, because he and Niall are usually a _team_ , and Louis moves forward again, up on his knees, and this time their mouths are already opening and Louis has his fingers twisting in the hair at the nape of Harry’s neck, and Harry rests his hands on Louis’ hips, low and familiar, and sucks on Louis’ tongue. Their mouths are moving against each other, slow and wet, and Louis bites Harry’s lower lip - not hard - and Harry’s smiling, goofy and sweet, and Louis pushes at his chin, gently, as he pulls away.  
  
“Happy?” Louis pretends to snap, before swiping a thumb pad over his lips, and Niall’s pants definitely are. Which isn’t as weird as it could be. (They’ve lived in each others pockets for two years, now; in a big bedroom, on a tour bus, in adjacent hotel rooms. There isn’t much he hasn’t heard or seen. Accidentally, mind you. But what’s been heard cannot be unheard. So maybe he knows what Harry sounds like when he’s close. That’s … completely normal).  
  
Zayn sighs. “OK. If we’re really doing this-”  
  
“Of _course_ we are,” Louis mutters.  
  
“-then I’m making us some drinks.”  
  
“Good man,” Liam says, as Zayn lines up some red cups, and Zayn glances up, so quickly, to grin at him.  
  
“You don’t even _drink_ ,” Louis points out.  
  
“I’m making an exception,” Liam says, which makes Niall laugh a little.  
  
“So,” Harry says, lazily, “what are the options, again?”  
  
Louis sighs, dramatic and put out. “Honestly, Harold.” He picks up the beginner die again. “Kiss. Touch. Blow. Suck. Nibble-”  
  
“That’s a bit weird,” Harry points out.  
  
“ _All_ of this is weird,” Liam corrects.  
  
“Shut up, Payne. And Wildcard,” Louis finishes.  
  
“And what’s on the other one?” Harry asks.  
  
Louis glares at him. “Kiss-”  
  
“Again?” Harry pretends to complain, and Louis tosses the dice at his head. “ _Hey_!”  
  
“Where was I?” Louis asks, as Harry rolls them back to him. “Right. Kiss. Finger. Blow-”  
  
“And that’s, you know. _Blow_ -blow,” Harry checks.  
  
“The good kind of blowing,” Zayn helps out.  
  
“Yes,” Louis, “Can I finish?”  
  
“Five bucks says you’re saying that again tonight,” Liam says, mild and poker-faced, and there’s a beat before the laughter starts. Louis throws an arm around Liam’s shoulders, almost _proud_.  
  
“Atta _boy_ ,” he beams, reaching a little further to pinch Liam’s nipple, before twisting away. “And...” he rolls the die in his palm to find where he was, “grinding, doggy style and wild card.”  
  
“With that wild card,” Niall says, a little warily, because there should probably be some ground rules when Louis’ pants are coming off.  
  
“Anything within reason,” Louis says, “So nothing to do with Bieber. No music. No role-playing-”  
  
“You are so _weird_ ,” Niall gapes. Like he’d want _that_. (Well. Maybe a couple of years ago, if Liam still had that hair cut. But - not _now_ ).  
  
“Dude, we’re playing with _sex dice_ ,” Zayn says, handing his drinks out.  
  
“Ta,” Louis says, taking his. He takes a sip before grinning. “Shall we?”  
  
  
* * *  
  
“This is _boring_ ,” Louis groans. “ _You’re_ all boring.”  
  
“Hey, fuck off,” Niall says, a little defensively. Because, OK. It hasn’t been a particularly sexy start. There’s been a bit of awkward chest-patting, and some fairly chaste kisses (which, while he remembers: Harry is a very good kisser). And then Zayn rolled ‘suck’ and they’d all kind of gone really still, like maybe it was going to start _happening_ , but when the spinner landed on Harry, Zayn sucked on Harry’s finger, wet and slobbery and silly and it was really, _really_ unsexy. And then Harry was meant to nibble on Liam, or something, but ended up biting him (“Like a _vampire_ ,” Niall thinks Liam muttered). And once he’d stopped complaining, Liam blew on Niall’s face, not even trying, and it was kind of really funny.  
  
But so not sexy. Which is what Niall had kind of been hoping for, tonight).  
  
“You go, then,” Zayn says, just as offended, and Niall gives him a look, like, _right?_  
  
Louis shrugs, and reaches for the die. “Fine.” He rolls “suck” and the spinner lands on Zayn, and Louis launches himself at Zayn, who grabs Louis’ waist instinctively. Louis shifts until he’s straddling him, slowly reaching up to tug Zayn’s collar aside. He holds Zayn’s gaze for a moment before lowering his mouth to Zayn’s neck. They’re both quiet, so quiet, but Niall can tell that Louis’ sucking and sucking _hard_ , his Adam’s apple bobbing, Zayn’s fingers tightening in his shirt.  
  
“OK,” Zayn says, voice a little lower, and Louis pulls off with a _pop_. “You made your point.”  
  
“Good,” Louis says, pretending to dust off his hands. He leans back against the couch again as Zayn rolls.  
  
“ _Kiss_?” Harry complains, “I want new dice.”  
  
“I like kissing,” Liam says, and Niall’s pretty sure he’s going a little pink. It might be the alcohol.  
  
“Mmnn,” Louis hums, all suggestive and knowing, and Liam stretches out to kick at his feet.  
  
“Shut up,” he says, as Louis kicks him back, and then Zayn’s spin lands on Niall and Niall stops paying attention.  
  
“Oh,” Niall says. “Cool.”  
  
Which makes Zayn laugh, for some reason, which Niall likes. Because Zayn’s usually all slow smiles and narrowed eyes (except, sometimes, when they’re together just like this, and his laugh comes easier and he doesn’t care about being _cool_ or _mysterious_ , and he’s just Zayn).  
  
“Come here,” Zayn says, hooking an arm around Niall’s neck. “Hey,” he murmurs, nose brushing Niall’s, and Niall’s still smiling when Zayn kisses him, warm and sure, all cigarettes and rum and _Zayn_. Zayn kisses him over and over, kisses him until he can’t catch his breath, and he pulls away, smiling in a way that he knows shows too much of his braces, but he doesn’t _care_.  
  
Louis’ clap is slow and Zayn shoves at his shoulder before grinning at Niall. It takes Niall a second to find the damn die again, and he rolls “blow”, of course, because it’s just like him to get the _stupid_ one. Sighing, he reaches for the spinner, and when it stops on Harry, he laughs a little at Harry’s excited, “Yes!”  
  
“You’re keen,” Louis teases, and Harry’s smile is wide.  
  
“I like this game,” he says, and it’s ridiculously genuine.  
  
Niall thinks about it for a second before shrugging. There is literally nothing sexy he can do with this. “Take off your shirt,” he decides, and Harry pulls it tighter around him, mock scandalised.  
  
(But he does. Because he’s Harry).  
  
Niall edges closer to him. “Now lie down,” he says, and Harry, Harry _trusts_ him, trusts all of them in a guileless, open way that almost _hurts_.  
  
Niall hovers over him for a moment, and Harry’s just watching him, curious, but not impatient, and Niall’s still just kind of looming over him, which has got to be a little weird, but Harry’s not Louis, so he doesn’t rush him. Finally, Niall bows his head and sucks on Harry’s nipple.  
  
Harry makes a noise of surprise, but doesn’t push him away. Niall tugs his nipple between his teeth, lightly, and Harry’s fingers are searching for purchase on the carpet. He pulls back a little, gives it a lick for good measure, and Harry’s nipple is shiny and _slick_ , Jesus, then blows on it and watches it tighten up into a little nub.  
  
Niall sits back slowly and Harry - just as slowly - pushes himself back upright.  
  
“So,” Harry says. “OK.” He shakes his head, quickly, hair flopping around, before reaching for the die.  
  
Louis grabs it first. “I think we’re ready for the advanced one,” he says, solemnly, rolling it between his fingers. Zayn nods slowly, beside Niall and, after a beat, Harry does, too. Niall shrugs. Liam picks at the rim of his plastic cup with his thumb. “Yeah?” Louis asks, but he’s only looking at Liam and Niall knows, he _knows_ , that for all of Louis’ bluster, he’ll stop the game right here if Liam wants out.  
  
Liam looks up at him for a long moment. “Yeah,” he eventually says, and Louis’ smile is real and not at all silly, and probably just for Liam.  
  
Louis reaches out and drops the second die in Harry’s hand; Harry rolls “finger”, and Niall’s not sure if the noise that comes out of Louis’ throat is choked laughter or something else.  
  
Harry stretches over and spins, and when it lands back on him, he laughingly reaches for the spinner again, but Louis’ hand darts out faster and stops the needle from moving.  
  
“No cheating,” Louis says, eyes not leaving Harry’s.  
  
Zayn curses under his breath, and Niall’s pretty sure he can feel heat prickling up his neck at just the _thought_ of what Louis’ suggesting.  
  
Louis tosses the lube to Harry, who catches it against his chest, but doesn’t move. “How many fingers?” he finally asks, and Louis’ smile is small.  
  
“Two.”  
  
Harry slowly pulls off his jeans and boxers. Niall reaches out to tug them over Harry’s ankles, and Harry smiles as he kneels. He’s not hard, Niall notices, not really. Harry looks up at Louis again for a long moment, before slicking his fingers with lube. He reaches behind himself, and there’s just the tiniest of hitches in his breath, and Niall turns his head slightly to watch a second finger sink into Harry.  
  
“How does it feel?” Louis asks, cocking his head to the side.  
  
Harry mirrors the head tilts as he ponders. “Good,” he says, simply, as he wraps a loose hand around his dick and Niall can hear the plastic cup in Liam’s hand crinkle.  
  
Harry fingers himself like he does everything else; it’s lazy, unhurried, and he’s rocking back onto his hand and up into his fist, and his dick’s flushed and hard, now, and when Harry glances up, tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth, just slightly, and notices everyone watching him, he grins, and Louis snorts softly.  
  
“You love it,” Louis says, just like it’s a fact (it, Niall decides, probably is). Harry’s grip tightens, and Louis says suddenly, “Stop.”  
  
Harry’s whine is quiet and frustrated, but he does, toes curling a little as he pulls his fingers out and there’s a wet noise that goes straight to Niall’s dick, or something, holy _crap_. Harry wipes his fingers on his jeans next to him as he reaches for the die again. He rolls a wild card, and his shaky spin lands on Louis.  
  
Louis’ grin is blinding. “On your back, Haz,” he says, moving across the circle, already unbuttoning his own pants, and Zayn clears his throat and shifts in his place as Louis quickly slicks his dick with lube.  
  
“OK,” Harry says, not really in response to anything, and Louis pushes into him without any preparation, and Harry arches his back and groans, loudly. “ _Fuck_.”  
  
Louis fucks him, quick and hard; it’s unrelenting, and Harry’s legs are trying to wrap higher around Louis’ waist, and Louis wriggles a hand down between them and strokes Harry - maybe only three times - and Harry’s coming over his hand, their stomachs, and Louis fucks him through it all.  
  
Harry’s legs fall open as he catches his breath, and Louis leans down to kiss him, his nose, his mouth, sweet and soft, before pulling out, and he’s hard and dark red, flush against his stomach, and Niall presses the heel of his hand against his own dick for a long moment.  
  
Louis crawls back across the circle, carefully knee-stepping over the spinner and dice, and it takes him a second to gather himself again.  
  
Louis rolls doggy style and grins, all quick and filthy. There’s silence again as he spins-  
  
\- until it lands on Harry.  
  
“Are you _cheating_ , Louis?” Liam asks, suspicious and slow.  
  
“Perish the thought,” Louis says, loftily, then, “Come on, Harry,” and Harry makes a noise a bit like a whimper, as Louis reaches for his wrist and tugs him over.  
  
“Lou,” he says, softly, and Louis kisses his collarbone.  
  
“You can do it,” he mumbles, against Harry’s chest, and Harry lets Louis push him over onto his hands and knees. Louis pets his back as he pushes in again. “You’re so good,” he says, softly (and it’s not for show, Niall knows. Louis is hyperactive and silly, mischievous and flirty, and so, ridiculously fond of Harry).  
  
He’s moving now, short, deep thrusts that drag against something in Harry, who rests his head on his crossed forearms and makes noises Niall’s not sure he knows he’s making, and Niall can almost _feel_ it, can see that it’s too much, too soon, he’s raw, and sore, but Harry still wants it.  
  
Louis grinds into him, then, pressed tight against his back, and Harry pushes up onto wobbly arms and groans, loudly.  
  
“Replay,” Zayn says, voice wrecked.  
  
Louis raises his head. “Cheeky,” he says, admiringly, before pushing back into Harry. “You heard the man.”  
  
“That’s a terrible Replay,” Liam protests, flushing a little.  
  
Louis hides his smile in Harry’s shoulder for a moment. “That’s your contribution to tonight?” he asks. “Filthy.”  
  
“Louis,” Harry says, and his arms are shaking a little as he tries to hold himself up. Louis pulls him up until he’s flush against Louis’ chest, and Louis’ hips are snapping, quickly.  
  
“So close,” Louis says, into Harry’s ear, and Harry closes his eyes as he grinds back down into Louis’ lap until Louis’ hips push up one more time and hold for a moment. Harry’s still moving, very slightly, in his lap, and Louis lets out a long, shuddering breath.  
  
Louis pushes Harry’s hair off his forehead, before leaning forward and kissing him, just under his earlobe, and pulling out carefully. Harry leans back against the couch - has no interest in taking his place in the circle again just yet - and tries to catch his breath.  
  
“Harry gets another spin, then,” Louis says, brightly, and Harry’s head snaps up.  
  
“Louis,” he says, almost pleadingly, and Louis shrugs.  
  
“Fine,” he sighs, like he’s put out. “I’ll go instead.” He flops onto the couch and leans down to grab the die.  
  
Harry stretches out until his head’s resting on Liam’s thigh and watches Louis roll. Liam scratches his scalp lightly and when Harry pushes up into the touch, Liam smiles.  
  
Louis rolls blow, and Niall feels a tug of _something_ , warm and low in his stomach, when the spinner lands on him.  
  
“Come on then, Niallers,” Louis says, not unkindly, waving him over to the couch. Niall slowly crouches down in front of him - is stopped by Louis’ hand on his bicep. “Up here,” he says, affect gone.  
  
Niall rises - a little unsteadily - as he swaps places with him.  
  
“Vas happening?” Zayn cracks, but is voice is shaking a little.  
  
“I don’t want those braces anywhere near my dick,” Louis says, all clipped, but he kisses Niall’s chest so he knows he doesn’t mean it.  
  
“Your pants are ridiculous,” he says, unbuttoning Niall’s yellow jeans.  
  
“Yeah, so’s your face,” Niall says. Which, OK, isn’t his best work. But there’s a mouth awfully close to his dick right now.  
  
Louis pinches his thigh, but ducks his head and licks a stripe up the underside of Niall’s cock and Niall’s balls draw up tight. He digs his fingers into the couch cushion as Louis sucks lightly on the head of his dick and _Jesus_.  
  
“He’s very good at that,” Harry says, almost sleepily, from where Liam’s still playing with his hair, and Louis flips him off without looking. “Oi!” he protests. “That was a _compliment_!”  
  
He’s not wrong, Niall decides, as Louis swallows more of him. Louis’ head is bobbing and there’s this wet noise every time he pulls off, and he’s wrapped one of his hands around the base of Niall’s dick and there’s a tingling building at the base of Niall’s spine, so he grabs Louis’ hair suddenly and tugs. “I’m going to come,” he gasps, and Louis frowns, trying to reach back down.  
  
“That’s the point,” he says, sulkily, as Niall twists away from him, but they’re both smiling a little.  
  
“This game’ll last longer if I don’t,” he points out, rather sensibly, and Louis rocks back on his heels.  
  
“That’s quite clever,” he says, a little surprised, and Niall pinches his nipple in protest, because _oi!_ Unfair.  
  
“Why,” Harry wonders, as Niall and Louis tussle a little, “am I the only one with my kit off?”  
  
“That’s just a normal Wednesday night,” Niall says, pausing, and Liam snorts.  
  
Louis shrugs, and pulls his shirt off. “Better?”  
  
Harry smiles, lopsided and warm. “Much.”  
  
“Whose go?” Zayn asks, shaking his head a little like he wants to clear it.  
  
Everyone thinks for a moment. “Mine!” Niall realises, almost surprised, and Liam laughs again. But not meanly.  
  
He rolls "grind", which, OK. Has potential. He flicks the Twister spinner around with a flourish, and when it lands on Zayn, Zayn quirks an eyebrow, but he’s smiling, very slightly.  
  
“C’mere,” Zayn says, unbuttoning his trousers as he lies back. Niall balances over him, on hands and knees, and Zayn’s smile grows, reaching up to grab Niall’s waist. “You need to come closer,” he teases, softly, breath warm on Niall’s cheek, and Niall frowns.  
  
“I _know_ ,” he protests, and Zayn interrupts him with a kiss.  
  
It’s nice, Niall decides. He likes this, likes _Zayn_. Zayn pushes on his lower back until Niall lowers his weight onto him, and Niall breaks the kiss to suck in a big breath when he feels Zayn hard and hot against his stomach. Zayn’s eyes are dark and amused and Niall grinds down into him until he stops looking so smug.  
  
Zayn’s hips push up in a clumsy rhythm and Niall kisses him again. There’s not enough friction, but he’s sliding through the crease at the top of Zayn’s thigh and it feels pretty fucking good. Tingly and good. Zayn’s feet are flat on the floor now, hips still rocking up against Niall, and Niall presses their cheeks together for a moment, before pulling back.  
  
“ _Hey_ ,” Zayn pretends to sulk, but his lips are wet with their spit, and Niall reaches out to stroke him, lazily, just a few times, because Zayn just looks really good like that.  
  
Louis applauds, politely, this time, like he’s at the opera or something, and Niall flips him off as Zayn reaches for the die. He rolls a wild card and lands back on himself and Louis looks _delighted_. “This,” he says, solemnly, “is like a look into your _psyche_.”  
  
Zayn just looks slightly bewildered. “...OK.”  
  
“What’ll it be, Malik?” Louis asks, cocking his head to the side. “Should Liam start lubing up?”  
  
“Fuck off, Tommo,” Zayn says, as he stares at the board for a long moment, and there’s an inscrutable look on Liam’s face. “I want to come on your face,” Zayn finally says, to Louis, who raises his eyebrows.  
  
Harry presses a quick, closed-mouth kiss to Liam’s knee, then, and Liam rubs his ear, affectionately. Niall wonders if maybe Liam’s a little bit sad, which would _suck_.  
  
“Let’s do this,” Louis says, as he lies down in front of Zayn. “Up on your knees here, yeah?” he asks, patting his chest, and Zayn shuffles forward until he’s kneeling over Louis’ shoulders. He balances on one hand, the other gripping his dick.  
  
“You ready?” he murmurs to Louis.  
  
“Hit me,” Louis grins.  
  
Zayn starts moving his hand, quick, rough strokes, harder than Niall would’ve dared. Zayn’s been sporting a semi for the last few rounds, so he’s _got_ to be close, but it’s only when he looks over at Harry and Liam that he cries and comes, suddenly, over his hand and Louis’ face.  
  
Louis lies very still for a moment, before delicately licking his lips as he sits up. “Charming,” he deadpans, and Zayn hands him a shirt off the ground (Harry’s, maybe, Niall thinks) to clean up and kisses him, quick and surprisingly sweet.  
  
Louis wipes his face and glances down at the spinner. “Me again?” he asks.  
  
“Liam hasn’t had a proper go,” Harry points out.  
  
“That’s OK,” Liam says, quickly.  
  
“Oi!” Louis says, “We’re not here for your _entertainment_ ,” but he’s laughing, and naked, so no-one takes him very seriously. “Take my go,” he says, handing the die to Liam.  
  
Liam plays with the die for a little while. Harry sits up and nudges him, encouragingly. Liam finally throws the die and rolls another wild card.  
  
“I - uh,” Liam’s a little lost for words, which is cracking Louis and Harry up. Even Niall’s trying to hide a smile.  
  
“Act it out,” Louis says, “You know. If you can’t say it. If it’s too _dirty_ and _kinky_ -”  
  
“Stop embarrassing him,” Zayn says, amused.  
  
Louis whirls around to look gape at Zayn. “ _Embarrassing_ him? If all it takes is _group sex_ with four of his best mates to embarrass him,” he turns back to Liam to finish, dramatically,  “then maybe I never really _knew_ you.”  
  
“Three,” Liam says, dryly. “Three of my best mates. And you.”  
  
And so everything’s on pause for a minute while Louis wrestles Liam to the floor and sits on him. “ _Uncalled_ _for_ ,” he says, indignantly, and Liam wraps his arms around Louis and somehow flips them and pins _him_ to the ground. “A draw?” Louis offers, magnanimously, from underneath him and Liam laughs and lets him up. Louis kisses his cheek and sits back in his place. “Where were we?”  
  
“Liam’s about to spin,” Harry says.  
  
When he does, it lands on Zayn.  
  
Zayn cocks his head to the side, smiling slightly, and Liam stares at the spinner. Niall thinks he might be blushing a little again.  
  
Liam stands and walks across the centre of what was their circle. Zayn looks up at him, and Liam holds out a hand to pull him to his feet.  
  
“Not where I thought _that_ was going-” Louis mutters, until Harry clamps a hand over his mouth.  
  
Liam’s looking at Zayn, a little hesitant and shy, and Zayn knots his fingers in the hem of Liam’s shirt to get his attention.  
  
“It’s cool,” Zayn says, quietly, “Whatever it is you want to do. It’s cool-”  
  
Liam leans in quickly and kisses him. And it’s not the sexiest thing Niall’s seen tonight, but it’s stupidly cute, with Liam’s eyes tightly closed and Zayn’s hand creeping around until it’s resting on Liam’s hip. Liam pulls back a little and Zayn follows him, kissing him quick and soft until they’re both smiling.  
  
“Aw. That was really sweet,” Louis mutters, when Harry finally uncovers his mouth.  
  
Liam sits back where he was, pink and still smiling, and Niall catches his gaze and grins at him.  
  
“Who hasn’t come?” Louis asks, looking around.  
  
“Liam,” Zayn says.  
  
“Who is,” Harry says, stretching, “still overdressed for this party.”  
  
“Niall,” Liam adds, which, yeah, thanks for noticing.  
  
“I say forget the dice for the last bit,” Harry says, before turning to Niall. “Because I really want to lick you.”  
  
Niall shrugs. It’s not even the weirdest thing Harry’s said to him today. “OK.” And Louis’ laughing, now, and even Harry’s smiling a little and - “ _Oh_.”  
  
“You don’t have to,” Harry says. He hasn’t moved from where he’s sitting.  
  
“No,” Niall says. “I want - I want you to.”  
  
“Yeah?” Harry asks.  
  
“Yeah,” he says, and now _he’s_ flushing a little, but, Christ. Louis beckons him over, until he’s between Louis and Harry. Harry pushes his head down a little (gently, because it is _Harry_ ), and Louis pets his hair as Harry nudges his legs apart and Niall’s trembling a little because this, this is something he hasn’t done before, and then Harry touches a tongue to his arse and he stops thinking too much.  
  
It’s Harry’s _lips_ and _tongue_ and Niall’s pushing back into him, helplessly, and Harry’s licking him, licking him open as Louis reaches down and wraps a hand around Niall’s cock, and Louis’ kind of Niall’s favourite person in the _world_ right now. He strokes, quickly, the angle awkward, but the thumb he brushes over the head of Niall’s cock and the way Harry’s lapping at him are enough to send him over the edge, and he comes all over his stomach, quick and hard, and Harry slows but licks him through it.  
  
Niall sort of collapses between them, and Harry kisses Niall’s shoulder, affectionately, as Louis says, cheerfully, “So just Liam, then?”  
  
“Can I?” Zayn asks, from where he’s lying back, propped up on his elbows.  
  
“Yeah,” Liam says.  
  
Louis pushes the spinner out of the way with his foot. “Over here,” he demands, and Liam crawls into the space he’s made. “Get your pants off,” he says, like Liam’s being an idiot, and Liam laughs a little, but does.  
  
“Lube?” Zayn asks, voice a little lower than usual, and Harry tosses it to him. “On your back,” he says, softly, to Liam, who lies down, resting his head on Niall’s legs.  
  
Zayn slicks his fingers quickly and nudges Liam’s legs apart. Liam’s just watching him, quiet and still, as Zayn pushes one finger into him. Liam arches up a little, and Harry reaches over to pet his hair.  
  
“OK?” Zayn asks, and Liam nods, jerkily.  
  
He adds another finger and Liam’s legs fall open further and Zayn’s hand is moving slowly, fucking in and out carefully until Liam’s hips start pushing back down onto him.  
  
Zayn’s watching Liam’s face and when his mouth falls open, slack, Zayn grins and twists his fingers again, over and over, until Liam’s shaking.  
  
“Close,” is all he says, bearing down hard on Zayn’s hand, and because Niall fancies himself a pretty helpful guy, he reaches out and jerks Liam off as Zayn fingers him. Louis rubs Liam’s knee as he comes, closing his eyes and arching his back again, and Zayn leans forward and kisses him before pulling his fingers out and kind of draping himself over Louis’ legs.  
  
There’s a long silence as everyone catches their breath.  
  
“Everyone OK?” Louis asks, and Liam’s laughing, silently.  
  
“Mmph,” Harry says.  
  
“I’m good,” Zayn says, fingertips lightly tracing circles on Liam’s palm.  
  
“Me too,” Niall says, and Liam turns his head and kisses the only part of him he can reach easily, which ends up being his leg, but it tickles, kind of, in a weird, nice way.  
  
There’s a quiet settling over them; they’ll get up soon, Niall knows, to clean up and move to a more comfortable place, but, for now, the quiet’s nice-  
  
“So,” Louis says, brightly, “Who’s up for round two?”  
  
(Niall is almost certain that it's Harry who whacks him with a couch cushion).  
  
  



End file.
